


Little Red

by xxxillusionxxx



Series: What's Love Got to Do With It? [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (the beginnings of) Stockholm Syndrome, Bondage, Forced Feminization, Kidnapping, M/M, Stalking, sociopath derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-03
Updated: 2014-05-03
Packaged: 2018-01-21 19:51:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1562015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxxillusionxxx/pseuds/xxxillusionxxx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles wakes up</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Red

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: THIS WORK DESCRIBES GRAPHIC, UNROMANTICIZED RAPE. READ THE TAGS BEFORE CONTINUING.

Stiles woke up slowly, his eyes heavy and his head feeling like he was swimming in molasses. When he finally opened his eyes, it took him a long moment to figure out why he wasn’t in his own room. Then it hit him. Getting kidnapped, the warehouse…god, he saw two men die. 

He shot up and scrambled off the small cot he lay on. He spotted a door across the room up a staircase and he ran for it, only to fall on his face when something caught at his ankle. He looked down and his heart fell when he saw the cuff on his right ankle connecting him to a short chain attached to the concrete floor. 

He looked down and realized that he was dressed, but not in the clothes he had left his house in. Stiles brushed his fingers across the hem of the red dress he wore, shivering a bit from the cold air of the basement. He pulled the material down as much as he could, feeling exposed in the short dress, especially because he found he wore nothing underneath it. 

Stiles tried to count his breaths to prevent himself from panicking. When he felt that he had a handle on himself he took stock of where he was. As far as he could figure he was in a basement. There was a tall mirror at the foot of the cot and a piss-pot a few feet away. There were no windows, only photographs lined the wall. He squinted and moved closer to the cot and the photos, freezing when he realized that all of them were of him. 

There were pictures of him sleeping, hanging out with Scott, sitting in the office with his dad. Some of them had to date back a few years by the clothes he was wearing. He felt a chill run up his spine just as he heard the door creak open and closed and someone descending the stairs. 

Stiles jumped onto the cot, squeezing himself into the corner as the man who raped him came towards him with a smile on his face. 

“Good morning, Stiles. You were out for almost two whole days. Are you hungry?” he asked like this was completely normal for him. 

“Where am I? I want to go home! I promise I won’t tell anyone just let me go home,” Stiles said desperately, doubting it would work but needing to try anyway. 

A dark look crossed the man’s face and he crossed the distance between them, slapping Stiles hard across the face. 

Stiles froze in shock and the man grabbed his chin and turned his face so that he was looking at him. The man’s eyes flashed red and Stiles felt his heart stop. 

“This is your home now,” he said with a growl in his voice. 

Stiles felt tears forming in his eyes and the man’s eyes softened. 

“Do you remember me? Derek Hale? I work at the station,” he said. 

Stiles didn’t say anything, too afraid of what his reaction would be if he admitted that he didn’t recognize him. The man didn’t seem to mind, sitting down on the cot beside him. 

“Well, you don’t need to worry. I’m not going to hurt you unless you make me. I know it’s kind of depressing down here, but I tried to brighten it up with some pictures,” he said. 

Stiles quickly wiped the moisture from his eyes.

“What about my dad?” he asked, his voice trembling. 

The man hummed and looked at him thoughtfully. 

“He thinks you’re dead. They found a body and everything. He won’t be looking for you.”

Stiles couldn’t choke back a sob at that and he felt his heart beat rabbiting in panic. 

“Shh, it’s ok,” the man said, pulling Stiles away from the wall and into his lap, “You’ll get used to it.”

Every cell in Stiles’s body wanted to fight his way out of this man’s arms, but the years of pictures all looked down on him and he was too scared to even move. He sat still as Derek stroked his back and muttered quiet promises that he would be ok.

After a while the touches became more deliberate, hands lingering near his ass and dragging the skirt up ever so slightly as he rubbed his back. 

“You look lovely in red,” Derek whispered into his hair, pulling his skirt up and holding it up so that his bottom was bare. 

Stiles shivered and tried to pull away but strong arms held him tightly in place. 

“Stiles, I want you to listen very carefully,” Derek continued, pulling his head to the side and nipping at his throat, “I want you to get on all fours facing the mirror and wait for me there.”

At that he dumped Stiles onto the bed and headed back toward the stairs. Stiles fought a battle with himself, torn between hiding under the bed like a child and doing as he was told for fear of retribution. He thought about the two men that Derek had killed and knew that if he was lying and his dad was looking for him then he needed to stay alive for as long as possible. 

By the time Derek came back down the stairs, he was on the bed facing the mirror. 

“Good boy,” Derek said.

Stiles watched as Derek set up a camera on a tripod a few feet away from the cot. After a while it just became too much and he shut his eyes and just waited for whatever was going to happen to happen. 

The bed dipped with Derek’s weight as he sat down on the bed next to him. Stiles kept his eyes tightly shut, not wanting any of this to be real. Suddenly he felt a hand grip his hair and pull his head back until his neck was straining. 

“Ah, ah, good boys pay attention,” Derek said, slapping his thigh hard with his other hand. 

Stiles gasped and almost dropped onto the bed in surprise at the hit, but he managed to keep himself upright. He opened his eyes wide, staring up at the ceiling and trying not to start crying again.

“Stiles,” Derek cooed, “Are you afraid to look at yourself? But you’re such a pretty little girl in that dress.”

With a firm grip still in his hair, Derek crawled behind Stiles and draped his upper body over him. 

“Look at yourself,” he said firmly, punctuating the command with a harsh jerk of the hand entwined in his hair. 

Stiles shivered but looked straight at the mirror and couldn’t look away. His face was red, his cheeks streaked with tears that he didn’t remember shedding. He looked small under Derek’s muscled body and everything was too real.

“Beautiful,” Derek said, his voice tinted with awe, “And all mine.”

Stiles jumped when he felt a slick finger probing his hole and tried to move away from the sensation. Before he could get far, the fingers wrapped around his balls and squeezed. Stiles cried out in pain and held still. After a few moments without movement Derek’s gripped lightened and his touch became more sensual. 

“I understand that this is new for you, Stiles, but know that if you try to fight me in any way, you will be punished. If you’re a good boy for me,” he said, running his hand lightly up Stiles’s stomach, “then you will be rewarded. For now, you just need to be good and keep watching yourself in the mirror.”

Stiles blinked tears out of his eyes as Derek stroked his stomach a few times before sliding his hand along his soft cock and then back to circle his asshole. He pressed two fingers in all the way up to the knuckle in one swift movement and Stiles whined at the sudden breach. 

“Just breathe through it, baby, you’re being so good for me,” Derek said. 

A sob escaped Stiles’s throat and Derek tutted lightly. 

“Shh,” he said, adding another finger and stretching them wide, “you’re almost ready to take my cock. Would you like that baby? Would you like to take my cock?”

Stiles didn’t respond and Derek roughly twisted his hand and scraped a blunt nail against his insides. He screamed in pain.

“Yes, yes!” he cried, earning himself a kiss on the back of his neck. 

“Yes what?” Derek asked against his skin. 

“Yes, I want to take your cock,” Stiles said shakily.

Derek groaned and pulled his fingers out. Stiles heard the snap of a cap and he hung his head as the world began to spin. He tried his hardest not to throw up when he felt the head of Derek’s cock press against his entrance.

“What did I say before, Stiles,” Derek said harshly, grabbing his face and pulling it back up so that he was looking back at the mirror. 

Stiles blinked owlishly as he felt Derek’s thick cock splitting him open. He hoped that Derek would let him look away but it wasn’t to be and he watched in horror as Derek rocked his frame with hard thrusts, the skirt of his dress fluttered back and forth with the movements. 

“God, your tight little cunt feels so good, so perfect for me,” Derek mumbled into his back as he settled into a punishing rhythm. 

Stiles didn’t even bother to stop the tears leaking out of his eyes, didn’t bother moving his head when Derek finally released his face. He just shut down and took it, silent except for the punched out sounds that he couldn’t control. 

Stiles didn’t react until Derek took hold of his cock and started stroking it in time to his thrusts. His heart skipped and his stomach lurched as he felt pings of pleasure shooting up his spine.   
“Please stop,” he whined.

Almost immediately the hand tightened painfully. 

“Please don’t make me cum,” he said again anyway. 

Derek stilled and wrapped both of his hand around his throat. Stiles froze when he saw that his fingers had grown claws. 

“I’m going to fuck you and you’re going to jerk yourself off until you cum. Do you understand me?”

Stiles shivered but nodded and Derek immediately released his neck and resumed pounding into him. With a shaky hand, Stiles took hold of his dick, still half hard from Derek’s ministrations, and jerked himself. His movements were quick and jerky and soon enough he felt a rush of pleasure as he came across his stomach and dress.

Derek growled and with a few deep thrusts reached his own release deep inside of Stiles. 

Stiles felt stiff and shocked and dirtier than he had ever felt before. Derek sighed and pulled out, pulling the dress over Stiles’s head and tossing it on the floor. Stiles didn’t fight as Derek reorganized his limbs so that he was curled up against Derek’s chest. 

Stiles felt something in his heart shatter. He didn’t know how long he could live like this. He didn’t even know if his dad even knew to look for him if what Derek said was true. He was scared, he burned in places he didn’t want to think about, and he was so so _tired_.

Stiles curled tighter into Derek and the man held him and made soothing noises while he cried himself to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi to me at [ tumblr!!!! ](http://nightshadekisses.tumblr.com/)


End file.
